Kassandra Bauer and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Book 3)

Chapter 7: Fear Factor.

I couldn't help but think about Buckbeak even more after my vision of him and the executioners axe. Especially in Double Potions. Not that I was really a good potions student anyway. Snape never really liked me all that much. But at least he didn't hate my guts like he did to Harry. And all because Harry's Dad gave him a hard time or something like that? Harry wasn't his Dad. Ryan was pretty much our only saving grace in the class. But he wasn't a teacher's pet. Not like Malfoy was.  

And speaking of Malfoy. He swaggered into Potions class with his arm all bandaged up and bound in a sling, and he acted like he had just killed the Nemean Lion and lived to tell the tale getting only a broken arm as a souvenir. 

"How is it, Draco?" Pansy asked. "Does it hurt much." 

Ugh. Get a room you two or something.

"Yeah." Draco answered while trying to put on what his poor excuse of a brave face was. Talk about taking the drama up to an 11.

I rolled my eyes. "Headaches." I said next to Hermione. 

"I know." Hermione replied.

"Settle down. Settle down." Snape said idly. 

You see what I mean? Snape wouldn't have said 'settle down' if we'd walked in late, he'd have given us detention. But nope. Not Malfoy. He got away with anything he wanted in Potions Class. But there really wasn't much I could do. Snape was head of Slytherin House, and he favored his own students above all others and that was that.

We were all making a Shrinking Solution today. If we were lucky, we could shrink Malfoy's brain. Malfoy set up his Cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table.

"Sir." Malfoy called. "Sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm-" 

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him." Snape ordered with no hesitation and without even looking up. 

Ron acted like he would rather gargle liquid nitrogen because he went brick red. 

"There's nothing wrong with his arm." I chimed in. 

Malfoy smirked across the table. 

"Quiet, Bauer." Snape hissed at me. 

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots." 

Ron grabbed his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots towards him, and began to chop them. Except they were all cut roughly, so that they were in different sizes.

"Professor." Malfoy went again. "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir." 

Snape approached our table now. He stared that crooked nose at the roots, then he turned on Ron. "Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley." He ordered.

"But sir-" Ron tried to protest. He had just spent the last 15 minutes trying to shred his own roots into equal pieces.

"Now." Snape said in his most dangerous voice.

Ron shoved his own cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then took up the knife again. 

"Oh give me that." Anubis has taken over Ron now. And changed up the roots to make sure they were equal.

"Can we use the scales on Malfoy now and cut out his heart?" Ron asked.

"It only works if he's dead." Anubis reminded.

"He's going to be if he keeps this up." Ron shot back.

"And sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned." Malfoy's voice was now full of malicious laughter. This was getting ridiculous.